第 17 节
作者:绝对601      更新:2022-04-16 12:12      字数:9290
  knew how; it ended in Charles’s being to meet him to breakfast at
  his father’s。
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  Anne   understood   it。   He   wished   to   avoid   seeing   her。   He   had
  inquired after her; she found; slightly; as might suit a former slight
  acquaintance;         seeming      to    acknowledge        such     as    she    had
  acknowledged;   actuated;   perhaps;   by   the   same   view   of   escaping
  introduction when they were to meet。
  The morning hours of the Cottage were always later than those
  of the other house; and on the morrow the difference was so great
  that    Mary    and   Anne     were    not   more    than   beginning      breakfast
  when Charles came in to say that they were just setting off; that he
  was come for his dogs; that his sisters were following with Captain
  Wentworth;   his   sisters   meaning   to   visit   Mary   and   the   child;   and
  Captain      Wentworth       proposing      also   to  wait   on   her    for  a  few
  minutes if not inconvenient; and though Charles had answered for
  the   child’s   being  in no  such  state   as could  make   it  inconvenient;
  Captain Wentworth would not be satisfied without his running on
  to give notice。
  Mary;   very   much   gratified   by   this   attention;   was   delighted   to
  receive him; while a thousand feelings rushed on Anne; of  which
  this was the most consoling; that it would soon be over。 And it was
  soon over。 In two minutes after Charles’s preparation;   the  others
  appeared;       they   were    in   the  drawing…room。        Her    eye   half   met
  Captain      Wentworth’s;       a  bow;    a  curtsey    passed;    she   heard    his
  voice—he talked to Mary; said all that was right; said something to
  the   Miss   Musgroves;   enough   to   mark   an   easy   footing:   the   room
  seemed full; full of persons and voices—but a few minutes ended
  it。   Charles   shewed      himself   at   the   window;   all   was   ready;    their
  visitor  had   bowed  and   was   gone;   the   Miss   Musgroves   were   gone
  too; suddenly resolving to walk to  the   end   of  the   village   with  the
  sportsmen:       the   room    was    cleared;    and   Anne    might     finish   her
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  breakfast as she could。
  “It is over! it is over!” she repeated to herself again and again;
  in nervous gratitude。 “The worst is over!”
  Mary talked; but she could not attend。 She had seen him。 They
  had met。 They had been once more in the same room。
  Soon; however; she began to reason with herself; and try to be
  feeling less。   Eight  years; almost  eight  years   had   passed;   since   all
  had    been    given   up。   How    absurd     to  be  resuming      the   agitation
  which      such     an    interval    had     banished      into    distance     and
  indistinctness!   What   might   not   eight   years   do?   Events   of   every
  description;      changes;      alienations;     removals—all;       all  must     be
  comprised in it; and oblivion of the past—how natural; how certain
  too! It included nearly a third part of her own life。
  Alas! with all her reasoning; she found; that to retentive feelings
  eight years may be little more than nothing。
  Now; how were his sentiments to be read? Was this like wishing
  to avoid her? And the next moment she was hating herself for the
  folly which asked the question。
  On one other question which perhaps her utmost wisdom might
  not   have   prevented;   she   was   soon   spared   all   suspense;   for;   after
  the   Miss   Musgroves   had   returned   and   finished   their   visit   at   the
  Cottage she had this spontaneous information from Mary:
  “Captain Wentworth   is   not   very   gallant  by   you;   Anne;   though
  he was so attentive to me。 Henrietta asked him what he thought of
  you; when they went  away;   and  he   said;   ‘You  were   so altered   he
  should not have known you again。’”
  Mary     had   no   feelings   to  make     her  respect    her   sister’s  in  a
  common        way;    but    she   was    perfectly     unsuspicious      of   being
  inflicting any peculiar wound。
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  “Altered     beyond      his  knowledge。”       Anne    fully   submitted;     in
  silent; deep mortification。 Doubtless it was so; and she could take
  no revenge; for he was not altered; or not for the worse。 She had
  already     acknowledged        it  to  herself;   and    she   could    not   think
  differently; let him think of her as he would。 No: the years which
  had   destroyed   her   youth   and   bloom   had   only   given   him   a   more
  glowing;   manly;   open   look;   in   no   respect   lessening   his   personal
  advantages。 She had seen the same Frederick Wentworth。
  “So  altered   that  he  should not  have  known   her  again!”   These
  were   words   which   could   not   but   dwell       with   her。  Yet   she   soon
  began to rejoice that she had heard them。 They were of sobering
  tendency; they allayed agitation; they composed; and consequently
  must make her happier。
  Frederick Wentworth  had   used   such  words;   or  something  like
  them; but without an idea that they would be carried round to her。
  He had thought her wretchedly altered; and in the first moment of
  appeal; had spoken as he felt。 He had not forgiven Anne Elliot。 She
  had used him ill; deserted and disappointed  him; and   worse;   she
  had   shewn   a   feebleness   of   character   in   doing  so;   which   his   own
  decided;   confident   temper   could   not   endure。   She   had   given   him
  up   to   oblige   others。   It   had   been   the   effect   of   over…persuasion。   It
  had been weakness and timidity。
  He had been most warmly attached to her; and had never seen
  a woman since whom he thought her equal; but; except from some
  natural   sensation   of   curiosity;   he   had   no   desire   of   meeting   her
  again。 Her power with him was gone for ever。
  It was now his object to marry。 He was rich; and being turned
  on shore; fully intended to settle as soon as he could be properly
  tempted; actually looking round; ready to fall in   love   with  all   the
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  speed which a clear head and a quick taste could allow。 He had a
  heart   for   either   of   the   Miss   Musgroves;   if   they   could   catch   it;   a
  heart;   in   short;   for   any   pleasing   young   woman   who   came   in   his
  way;   excepting   Anne   Elliot。   This   was   his   only   secret   exception;
  when he said to his sister; in answer to her suppositions;
  “Yes; here I   am;   Sophia;   quite   ready  to  make   a  foolish match。
  Any  body   between   fifteen   and   thirty   may   have   me   for   asking。   A
  little beauty; and a few smiles; and a few compliments to the navy;
  and I am a lost man。 Should not this be enough for a sailor; who
  has had no society among women to make him nice?”
  He said it; she knew; to be   contradicted。   His   bright  proud   eye
  spoke the conviction that he was nice; and Anne Elliot was not out
  of his thoughts; when he more seriously described the woman he
  should      wish   to  meet    with。   “A   strong    mind;    with    sweetness     of
  manner;” made the first and the last of the description。
  “That is the woman I want;” said he。 “Something a little inferior
  I shall of course put  up   with;   but  it  must  not  be   much。   If I   am   a
  fool; I shall be a fool indeed; for I have thought on the subject more
  than most men。”
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  CHAPTER VIII
  rom   this   time   Captain   Wentworth   and   Anne   Elliot   were
  Frepeatedly   in   the   same   circle。   They   were   soon   dining   in
  company   together   at   Mr。   Musgrove’s;   for   the   little   boy’s
  state could no longer supply his aunt with a pretence for absenting
  herself; and this was but the beginning of other dinings and other